The Tears that Fall at Dusk
by Sejuti Mitra
Summary: Draco reminisces old memories, thinking that he is alone now. But what he thinks is not necessarily true…


**Story:** The Tears that Fall at Dusk

**Author:** Sejuti Mitra

**Rating:** PG-13

**Warning:** Slash, i.e. Male-male pairing. If you are offended by this sort of pairing, don't read any further. Unbetaed. Character Death (Read it, that's not accurate)

**Disclaimer:** All copyrights belong to J. and Bloomsbury. I am just expressing my love for these boys by writing this story!

**Summary: **Draco reminisces old memories, thinking that he is alone now. But what he thinks is not necessarily true…

The Tears That Fall at Dusk

The seagulls soared in the sky. Their cries echoed in the loneliness of the beach. The only other sound was the crashing of waves on the shores. The scene was surreal or so Draco thought as he walked along the coast, leaving behind footprints on the silver sand.

It was his favourite time of the day. He waited for this walk at dusk along the coasts throughout the day. It calmed him and soothed him. It acted like a healing salve on his ever-present wounds that somehow even time could not heal.

Even more anticipated than this walk was the letter in his hand. It was addressed to him, and it was the most precious thing in his life aside from the gold band on his ring finger. Both had been given by the same person, the person who was so dear to him, the most important person of his life.

He opened the letter to read it again:

_Dearest Draco,_

_I won't start by saying something cheesy like 'If you are reading this letter, I am dead by now'. I guess I already did, didn't I? I am sorry, dear._

_I am writing this letter to tell you sorry and that I love you. Draco, I knew that I would die no matter what. I did not tell anyone, not even Ron and Hermione. I was the seventh Hocrux and I understood what the prophecy meant by 'Neither can live while the other survives'. I did not tell you because I did not want to upset you. Actually, I did not mean to fall in love with you in the first place. But I guess it was a sort of involuntary reflex action! Ha ha. I know, bad joke..._

_You were the most important person in my life, Draco. I love you. I love you like I have never loved anyone before. You were my first and my only. You were mine like I was yours. With you I felt at home—a feeling I never had before. I am glad that I found you or else I never would have known what love felt like._

_Do forgive me, Draco. Every time we met, I kept telling myself that this would be the last time, that I will tell you the truth when we meet. But I could not bring myself to do so. I was selfish and I hurt you. I know what you are thinking—he is dead and gone and he has left me behind to wallow in sorrow and remorse. I am really sorry. I never meant to hurt you the slightest._

_I will not ask you to forget me. Actually, I want you to always remember me. But please, move on. Find someone else and be happy. As jealous as I am, writing this makes my blood boil. But your happiness is what matters the most to me._

_I wanted to write so much, but now that I am writing, I don't know what else to write! So let me conclude my endless tirade by saying that I love you and I will always love you, even after death, because your essence is imprinted on my very soul. If it is not very much to ask, keep loving me too…_

_Love,_

_Harry._

His eyes had moistened by the time he finished reading the letter. He caressed the browning paper affectionately.

It was funny, he thought, that even after all these years, the letter still brought tears to his eyes every time he read it.

He had kept all of Harry's requests, except one. He had not forgotten him, he had tried to be happy, and he had kept loving him. The only thing he could not do was to move on. He had not even tried to do so.

He wanted to tell Harry when he saw him in the near future, in heaven or in hell, that he too was his first and his only. He knew Harry would not like the fact that Draco had not moved on. But Draco felt that going with someone else would be to betray Harry.

He had tried to be happy. He had gone back to Hogwarts to teach Potions. Sometimes, going with the flow was easy enough. But he felt that a part of him was still stuck somewhere far, far behind him. That part was maybe his heart, which did not want Draco to move on, to go with the flow, to forget his sorrow and pain. It wanted to always keep Draco aware of Harry—his smiles, his eyes, his hair everything. So that whenever he closed his eyes he would see the dark haired wizard smiling at him in his mind.

He had never stopped loving Harry. Even after fifty years of his death, he loved the man with the same kind of intensity or perhaps even more, as he had love him before. It was Harry who understood him, who knew all his faults and mistakes, who witnessed his flaws and yet loved him. He expected nothing of Draco, but had just loved him selflessly and fiercely.

The tears which he had been holding inside rolled down his cheeks and fell on his shirt, where it got soaked in. It was somehow very easy to cry at dusk. There was enough light to see your own sorrows but not enough for others to see them. It was safe to cry and admit defeat to death. But Draco had not been defeated. He still loved Harry and was sure that somewhere, Harry still loved him too.

He gazed at the setting sun for sometime, feeling the gentle breeze on his skin. He felt complete and tranquil as he walked back to his house with a smile on his lips, not noticing that beside his footprints, there were another set of footprints as well.

~ The End ~

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